


Snow Days

by infiniteeight



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Knotting, M/M, No one is in SHIELD, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteeight/pseuds/infiniteeight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being an unbonded alpha, the first thing Phil does when he gets snowed into his apartment is check on his neighbors. All his neighbors, but especially the omega next door.</p>
<p>(Also a non-SHIELD AU, just because.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amireal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amireal/gifts).



> I wrote this on a plane between 10pm and 2am while changing time zones. I like it, but who knows what my judgment is like at the moment. *grins*

When Phil wakes up, five minutes before his alarm, the moderate snowfall of the night before has escalated into a whiteout. His fire escape is buried and he can hardly see out his windows. He checks the university website, and on top of the expected notice that classes have been canceled, there's a further warning not to go outside unless absolutely necessary. Apparently the snow has been accompanied by a plunge in temperature.

The university is usually pretty reluctant to cancel classes, but Phil flips on his TV just in case. The weather network is, if anything, even more adamant that no one go outside. They also advise that the weather is expected to last three to five days. Phil groans. He's supposed to give his students a midterm this afternoon; moving it by a day is inconvenient. Moving it by up to a week is going to screw up his lecture schedule something awful. There's no help for it, though, so he wakes his computer and sends an e-mail to his student mailing list, just to be sure that those of them that never check the news or the university site are aware of the cancellation. There's always one.

Then he finds his cell and dials his department head. Fury doesn't even say hello when he picks up, "Classes are cancelled, Phil. What are you calling me for?"

"You could say hello," Phil says. "Caller ID does not excuse you from politeness."

"Answering a work call on a day when I should be reading and having a drink, enjoying a break from the jabbering of my fellow professors, excuses me from politeness," Fury replies. "But sure, fine." He puts on a tone of exaggerated consideration. "Hi Phil. So nice to hear from you. How can I help you?"

Phil snorts. "Fuck you, too, Nick. I just wanted to let you know that I had a midterm scheduled for today. It's a second year class so probably no one will care, but I know you hate it when someone complains to you and you have no idea what they're talking about, so this is your heads up."

"Great," Nick sighs. The students will be happy that they have more study time, but there's a chance administration will get their backs up; midterms aren't supposed to be rescheduled. "Thanks."

"Bye, Nick," Phil says, and hangs up. That taken care of, he dresses, tucks his feet into comfortable, broken in house shoes, and starts making the rounds of his floor of the apartment building. Most of his neighbors are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, but Phil is an unbonded alpha and he knows he'll be calmer, trapped in his apartment, if he reassures himself that everyone is taken care of. Especially the older couple in 801, the elderly beta in 808, and the unbonded omega in 817, right next door to him.

Mostly the omega. Clint.

Phil has to shake his head at himself. Clint is ten years younger than him, in great shape, and owns and operates the local gun range--he hardly needs taking care of. But instincts are instincts, and Phil figures that it doesn't hurt to indulge them as long as he's not singling Clint out.

So he makes the rounds, starting with 815, on his apartment's other side, and circling the floor. Everyone is fine, although the elderly beta, Ms. Denning, will need a prescription re-filled in a week. Predictions stay they'll be safe to go out by then, but Phil uses his phone to make a note in his calendar anyway.

The circle he's made means that Clint's apartment is his last stop. He knocks lightly on the door. There's a long pause, and he frowns. Clint is normally pretty quick to answer. But after another moment, Phil knocks again. This time, Clint answers. "Hey, Phil," he says, running a hand through his spiky hair. He's flushed, like he was working out, or just got out of the shower. Phil quashes the mental image that thought prompts. "Sorry, I wasn't sure it was a knock the first time. What's up?"

"Just making sure that everyone's okay," Phil says. "We're going to be snowed in for a few days."

Clint smiles, leaning against the door jam. "I'm good to go. Although I'm going to be pretty thin on groceries by the end there. But eating pancakes for a couple of days won't kill me."

"Pancakes?" Phil asks, letting his mouth quirk up into an answering smile. It's impossible to not smile when Clint looks like that: eyes bright and t-shirt snug around his arms and across his shoulders. "I thought the standard tail end of the groceries was rice. Or Raman noodles."

"Maybe for folks who don't cook much," Clint says. "For me, it's always eggs, and why eat eggs straight up if you can use them to make pancakes?"

Phil chuckles. "Fair enough. I'll leave you to it, then." He starts to leave, but then Clint straightens up and catches his eye.

"Hey," Clint says. "If you decide to use this reprieve to catch up on Super Nanny, could you turn the volume down? I'm a few episodes behind, I don't want to be spoiled."

"Sure." Phil tilts his head. "I didn't know you watched."

Clint shrugs. "You can only hear it through the wall so many times before you get curious."

"I'm sorry," Phil says, chagrined. "I forget how thin the walls in this place are sometimes."

"Don't worry about it, I don't mind." Clint pauses, and for a moment Phil thinks he's going to say something else. But eventually he just straightens up and nods. "Thanks for stopping by. Don't forget to take care of yourself, too, okay?"

"I will," Phil promises. For a moment he almost can't make himself step away from Clint's door. Something feels...different. Not quite wrong, but not normal, either. Clint didn't seem to want him to leave even when he was saying goodbye himself.

Still, he _did_ say goodbye, so Phil forces himself to return to his own apartment. He doesn't have any right to pry into Clint's business, no matter how often they've chatted at the mailbox or in the laundry room. Still, he likes Clint, and there's no reason for the man to eat pancakes for two days if Phil has a kitchen full of food. It's the perfect excuse to invite him over for a bit.

Phil feels a little thrill of warmth at the thought of having Clint in his space. It's won't go anywhere, of course. Clint is sure to have much better prospects for an alpha than a balding history professor, but Phil can still enjoy having him around. He's easy to talk to and gorgeous, and his scent is fantastic. He has, if Phil is honest with himself, been the subject of a few wistful daydreams, though Phil drew the line at actually fantasizing about a man he sees in the hall on a regular basis.

Phil is making lunch when music comes on next door, in Clint's apartment. Phil finds himself singing along, and snickers when he realizes that he doesn't own the song, he's just heard it through the wall that many times. The entire album plays through...and starts again. Phil frowns. Clint doesn't play songs on a loop.

By the end of the second repeated song, Phil is ready to go next door again, just to be sure. But then the music cuts off. He hesitates, and then there's knocking at _his_ door.

The moment he opens it, revealing Clint on the other side, it's obvious what the problem is. Clint is definitely flushed now, and his skin has a sheen to it even though the clothes he's swearing aren't actually sweat damp. Most of all, his scent gives it away, heavy and rich with heat. Phil's mouth goes dry at the thought that Clint, in heat, has knocked on his door.

"Clint," Phil says after a speechless moment. "Do you want to come in?" Clint has never been into Phil's apartment before, but he can't imagine the omega wants to linger in the hallway looking and smelling like that.

"Yes, yes please," Clint says shakily. Phil steps back from the door and Clint hurries past him. "I needed to come here," he blurts even as Phil closes the door. "I-- My heat is early, I'm not due for more than a week, almost two, I don't know why it's so early."

The uncertainty in Clint's tone triggers a surge of protectiveness in Phil. "It's okay, whatever you need," Phil says, guiding Clint over to his living room couch and easing him down onto it. Phil takes the seat next to him and catches his eye, smiles and shows how calm and steady he is. "What do you need?" 

"I-- I need--" Clint stops and closes his eyes, takes a long slow breath. He opens them again. "There are people I could call," he says. "There's a registered heat companion not even a block from here." 

Is Clint going to ask Phil to escort him there? In this weather, it would be wise, even for such a short distance. Phil feels an actual bolt of pain at the thought, but he'll do it, he'll help Clint get there if that's what he needs. "Do you want me to walk with you?" he asks steadily.

But Clint shakes his head. "No, no, I'd rather-- I just needed you to know that you didn't have to say yes just because of me."

Phil's heart speeds up. "Say yes?"

Clint licks his lips and looks at Phil. "When my heat started," he says, "this was the only place I wanted to be. Everything in me told me that you were the best alpha to take care of me, that I was meant to be here, with you. I know we've just been friendly, rather than real friends, but I knew I was connecting with you, and it's earlier than I'd have normally chosen, but Phil...I'd really like to spend my heat with you."

Phil's head is spinning, but he still manages to answer, "Yes, Clint, I'd love to share your heat." God, if he'd let himself fantasize about Clint, he thinks it might have started just like this. Just the idea that Clint felt that they were connecting, that his instincts told him to go to _Phil_...it's hard to believe, but Phil isn't going to turn him away, even if there's a chance his head will clear after his heat and he won't Phil anymore. He asked Phil to _take care of him_.

"Thank you," Clint says. He rubs his hands over his thighs and bites his lip. "Can I touch you?"

"Of course," Phil says, and before he knows it Clint is straddling his lap and leaning in to press their cheeks together, his nose brushing Phil's ear. The contact of skin on skin, even in so innocuous a place, is electric. Phil gasps softly at the spark of bright, shivery _connection_. His heart pounds and his cock surges into arousal, and for a moment all he can do is breathe in Clint's scent and tuck face into the curve of Clint's throat where he can gently draw his teeth over warm skin and flick out his tongue to taste Clint's sweat.

"Yes," Clint moans, clutching Phil's shoulders and tipping his head back to expose more of his throat. Phil pushes his hands up under the back of Clint's t-shirt and palms the strong muscles of his back. Clint rocks against him, his scent growing even stronger. "Yes, Phil. More."

Phil wishes he were strong enough to lift Clint and carry him into the bedroom. He's no slouch, but Clint is solidly built, and Phil knows better. So instead he pets Clint's back and nuzzles his way back to Clint's mouth, carefully slanting their lips together for the first time. 

Clint tastes as good as he smells, and though the kiss starts off soft and inviting, it quickly turns hungry. Phil matches Clint's eagerness, his own instincts and hormones rising to match those of the omega in his lap. Phil draws Clint's tongue into his own mouth and sucks on it, triggering a shudder and a tightening of Clint's grip on Phil's shoulders. Reluctantly, Phil breaks the kiss. "I need you to get up so I can take you to my bedroom," he says roughly.

"Screw the bedroom," Clint mutters, nibbling at Phil's jaw. "You can have me right here."

Phil rubs a hand over the back of Clint's neck. "And maybe I will," he says. "Later. The first time I knot you, I want you on your hands and knees, presenting properly."

Clint's breath catches and then he scrambles out of Phil's lap. "Okay, let's go."

Phil can't laugh at the sudden change of heart, not when Clint looks like that, disheveled and hard, eager to be mounted. He rises from the couch pretty quickly himself, catches Clint by the hand, and leads him straight into his bedroom.

The bed is king size and the covers are half pushed down, unmade after Phil's morning routine. Clint strips out of his clothes while Phil yanks the sheets off completely. Phil doesn't have time to so much as gesture before Clint crawls up onto the bed and goes right down to elbows and knees, ass raised in offering.

"You are so fucking gorgeous," Phil says, kicking his way out of his shoes and yanking his fly open. "God only knows why you connected with me."

Clint laughs, low and breathy. "Because you're perfect. Because you take such good care of your people. Because you have amazing eyes and a sweet smile and when you wear your glasses I just want to pin you down and kiss you stupid."

Phil kicks the last of his clothing aside and climbs onto the bed behind Clint. "If you say so." He lays his hands on Clint's hips and leans down to press a kiss to the small of his back. "How are you doing?"

"Good," Clint says. "I love your hands. So fucking steady. You going to use your fingers on me, Phil?"

Phil hummed. It's a nice thought, but... "I have something else in mind," he says. He uses his hands to spread Clint's ass cheeks and lowers his mouth to the crease instead. It's wet with Clint's slick already, thick and shining, and Phil licks it up with slow strokes of his tongue. Clint cries out once, and then breaks into breathless moans.

He tastes fantastic, and Phil can feel his cock growing harder with every lick, the natural lube heavy with Clint's hormones. As much as Phil would like to keep working Clint with his tongue, taking the slick in like that is making his knot swell, and even if he could bear to wait, Clint needs that knot. So Phil settles for dipping his tongue right into Clint's hole only once, savoring the sharp whimper it draws from Clint, before straightening and leaning over to get a condom from the bedside table. It takes Phil a moment to roll it on, and then he's rubbing a soothing hand up and down Clint's back as he presses the head of his cock into Clint's hot, wet ass.

"Fuck, _yes_ ," Clint gasps, voice low and heavy with pleasure. "Yes, that's it, that's what I need. Give it all to me, Phil."

"Anything you need," Phil says hoarsely. "Everything you need." He eases forward slowly but steadily, looking down to watch Clint's body take in every bit of his length. Clint's ass is so wonderfully full and round, his skin dimpling under the press of Phil's fingers, his hole stretched around Phil's cock. 

Finally Phil's knot, half swollen already, presses up against Clint. It almost looks too big to fit, even though Phil knows he isn't more than average in size. The idea that he can swell even more, that his knot will be buried inside Clint, makes him light headed. "You want my knot, or you want me to fuck you a bit first?" Phil manages to ask. A bit is all the thinks he can manage, but oh, he _wants_ it.

"Fuck me," Clint groans. "Make me yours, get me ready for your knot. Please, Phil."

Phil moans and does as he asks, thrusting slowly at first, picking up the pace when Clint just leans into it. It feels so fucking good to plunge into that tight, wet heat. Clint is ready and open for him, and Phil's cock sinks into him like it was made for Clint, perfectly fitted to mount him and only him. Phil has been with other omegas, has even been with other omegas in heat, but nothing ever felt like this, this electric sense of rightness and pure, surging pleasure that swamps Phil. 

He doesn't make a conscious decision to press his knot into Clint at last. It simply happens, without effort or nervousness or worry. Clint's body relaxes as Phil thrusts into him, and his knot slips inside as naturally as can be. Phil would be sorry to lose the sight of his cock sliding into Clint when his hips come to rest against Clint's body, except that the heat of him is even better. The pressure on his knot makes Phil close his eyes and moan, pressing into Clint even though they're joined as closely as possible already.

"So good," Phil moans. Clint doesn't answer, not with words, but he makes a noise of approval and pleasure and his body tightens. Phil goes breathless, preparing himself for the tie. A moment later Clint's body spasms and clamps down on Phil. In response, Phil's knot swells that last bit, locking them tightly together even as Phil crests and tips over into orgasm. His cock throbs and spurts, and he lets out a cry of pleasure as Clint shudders with his own climax and his ass starts milking Phil's knot.

It's a long, intense finish, enough that by the end of it Phil's grip on Clint's hips is steadying himself as much as it's steadying Clint. When Phil is sure their bodies are finished with the headlong rush into breeding, Phil bends over Clint's back and carefully eases them down onto their sides to wait out the tie.

"How are you doing?" Phil asks, pillowing his head on one arm and carefully wrapping the other around Clint. 

"Mmmmm, good," Clint says, still sounding a bit hazy, but relaxed, too. "Kind of wish I could kiss you right now."

Phil brushes his lips over the back of Clint's neck, though that is hardly a substitute. "We could try knotting face to face next time."

Clint turns his head, and Phil leans up to meet his gaze. "You can do that?" Clint asks.

Phil swallows a grimace at the thought of the kind of alphas Clint's had in the past if he doesn't know that. Selfish assholes who are only thinking about their knot don't deserve to have an omega at all. "Sure," he says, and the way Clint's expression brightens washes away any dark thoughts. "I can't get as deep, and it'll get uncomfortable for you if it lasts too long, which is why knotting from behind is best the first time, but if you don't mind risking a muscle cramp, I'm happy to try it out."

"I'm flexible," Clint says. "Probably won't even get a cramp."

"Mmmm." Phil cranes his neck around to meet Clint for a quick, awkward kiss. "I look forward to finding out."

Clint, as it turns out, is more than flexible enough to comfortably knot from the front. They take a shot at sideways, too, just for kicks, but that's far too shallow to satisfy either of them, and they end up turning back to front and transforming the frustration into a rough, urgent knotting that tires them both out so much they fall asleep right after.

The next round is gentle, Clint riding Phil's lap and sharing long, deep kisses with him. That one ends with Clint draped over Phil, his face tucked into the curve of Phil's throat while Phil pets him softly.

Clint's heat lasts four days, and Phil finds himself glad that Clint came to his apartment, where he has food to keep both their strength up, and where he knows where the clean sheets and the fluffiest towels are. The snow outside has stopped falling by the time the heat breaks, but the drifts are high enough that they're still snowbound.

Not that Phil minds, at this point. He and Clint put cartoons on the TV and settle on the couch with hot drinks and one blanket between them, and when they flip to the news station during a commercial to discover they'll be snowed in for one more day, Phil can only think of one comment. "It's like the world wanted us to come together."

He wouldn't blame Clint for laughing at the sentiment, but he doesn't. "Maybe it did," he says instead. "My heat did come on early. But I think..." When Clint trails off, Phil turns to meet his gaze. "I think maybe it was because we had such a good connection. I wasn't all that far out, and then I realized I was trapped by the weather, and...I was thinking about you already, but then you came by."

"I'm glad," Phil murmurs. "I'm glad for all of it."

Clint smiles, bright and vibrant, and warmth blooms in Phil's chest. "Me too," Clint says, and leans into Phil when he puts an arm around him.

~!~


End file.
